“I’m not so scared I want to lie in bed and eat Fig Newtons”

*Author’s Note: Katie/La-a/Overflowing Brain and Grace have posted really lovely reflective posts, and I'm totally ok with being their followers *

In an effort to have more coherent blogs, I have promised myself I would stop writing whilst hopped up on Ambien. Although, considering its purpose, it would probably be the opposite of hopped up. So, I’m going to try and write things in advance and then read them through a bit.

On Friday the 13th, Wallace will have his second test. It is now three months since he showed up waving his little hand (I imagine him looking similar to the Zoloft egg). My mother has stated he would most likely not be waving; he would be flipping me off.

I understand that this test is one whole week in advance. However, I have decided it’s important for the freak out to start now. And it will most likely continue until I receive the results.

This post is not really about Wallace or tests. It’s about how I’m scared. And about how somewhere along my little sojourn of life, I’ve decided that fear is unacceptable.

I don’t quite know when this all started, and I have no idea why I decided that I need to be the brave little soldier. But now that I have started, I can’t seem to stop. I hate the feeling of being weak and out of control but instead of just dealing with it, I’ve internalized it and turned all the fear into a rock solid shell. I haven’t dealt with the emotions that came up when I first heard about all this crap and as a result I feel forced to pretend that they don’t exist.

When I was a little girl, learning to ski, my father always told me, “No Whining”. He even had a baseball hat with that written on it. I am in no way saying he’s responsible for it. I’ve just managed to turn that ridiculous statement into some batshit crazy mantra for my life.

But life may be a little bit about whining. It’s about letting people in and saying that you are afraid. But not too much, hell, I don’t need to be Stuart Smalley.

I think I need some toffee.


Grace said...

If I had toffee, I would bring it to you. And tell you not to be scared. And then I'd likely get drunk and swear at you.


Overflowing Brain said...

If I had toffee, I'd eat it all and tell you about it. But that's because Grace is way nicer to me. And thanks for the props on the post. It's now been replaced with something far less profound.

And also? Fear is the MOST acceptable emotion. Email if you want to talk about it. I've done a few of these tests in my life. And hi, I'm about to do some more.

Tumor Sister for Life

Overflowing Brain said...

Ahem, Grace is way nicer THAN me. I've always had problems with prepositions.

Wait, is that a preposition?

I've always had trouble with the english language in general.

Dysfunction Junction said...

Hence the post about your students thinking Joan of Arc was in a whale...

I kid I kid....and I may be taking you up on that offer some time next week...we'll see how it goes

Fo Life...we need a gansta fist pound...perhaps a gentle tap on the noggin?